Drive, Bosco!... Just Drive! (Part 2 of Series)
by SpaceCowboyMedic
Summary: Bosco & Carlos story. Complete. Rated for language. Bosco and Carlos realize Jimmy and Bobby weren't joking. Strange things are a foot in Upstate New York.
1. Drive, Bosco!... Just Drive! Chapter I

  
**Author' Note: This isn't really a new chapter to the previous story, just an addition. But reading the other would help in it's understanding and background. Again, it's horror/humour. Please enjoy.  
  
  
Drive, Bosco...Just Drive!  
********************  
  
  
"Why are you slowing down?" asked Carlos from the passenger seat.  
  
"I'm not," replied Bosco. "Well, at least I'm not trying to. It's slowing on it's on." He looked at the gauges of his sports car and watched them all dip to the left- indicating his car's slow demise. "Something's wrong with the car."  
  
Carlos clenched his teeth and let his head fall against the head rest. "Great. Now what?"  
  
Bosco pulled the car to the side of the road and disengaged the engine. He tried to re-start it, but to no avail. The engine did not turn over, the alternator did not catch- the car was dead. "We call for a tow truck," he replied, reaching for his cell phone.  
  
But as he dialed the number his eyes wandered to the front windshield where he could see the vast expanse of the dark night. A cold shiver ran down his spine as he pushed in the last digit on the phone and placed it to his ear.  
  
Like the car, the phone was dead.  
  
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked, turning to Carlos.  
  
"Let me guess, your cell's dead?"   
  
Bosco nodded, so Carlos continued. "This must be the place they were talking about then," he said, peering out his window.   
  
"Dark deserted side road. No road signs. No houses," said Bosco. "Yeah, I'm thinking this sounds familiar."  
  
"And I thought they were kidding," replied Carlos. "Just to scare us or something."  
  
Davis had rented a small cabin in upstate New York a few days ago, for the guys to relax and possibly get in some good fishing. Jimmy and Bobby had been delayed in the city, and had only arrived earlier that evening. And when they had arrived, Bosco had received an ear full of blathering, incomprehensible sentences and accusations. It took over an hour for Jimmy and Bobby to calm down and finally articulate their story- the one in which they had promised never to tell.  
  
But of course, they had. And, of course, no one had believed it.  
  
And when Davis had suggested a run to the grocery store for more supplies, Jimmy and Bobby were the first to volunteer...other people.  
  
Bosco and Carlos were quickly appointed, and they'd left shortly after. But neither had expected to get lost.  
  
And now they were stranded in the middle of a dark nowhere, their minds frantically trying to push Jimmy and Bobby's story to their furthest recesses.   
  
"Should we get out and check under the hood?" suggested Bosco, his voice breaking the still silence inside the car.  
  
Carlos shook himself, waving a dismissive hand at the driver. "Yeah. I mean, this is probably just a coincidence. I don't believe in ghosts and freaky-freakies anyway," he said, opening the passenger side door.  
  
Bosco did the same on his side and stepped out into the night. But as he reached back in to unlatch the hood, he noticed a trickle of grey mist seep into the car. He stood up abruptly, only to notice a mysterious fog had enveloped them.  
  
"Uh, Bosco..."  
  
"Yeah, Carlos?"  
  
"Where'd this come from?" asked Carlos, indicating the thick smoky haze that left little to the imagination.  
  
Bosco pulled the latch and quickly closed his door. "I don't know," he replied. "But let's get this fixed fast so we can get out of here."  
  
"I'm all over that idea," Carlos said, joining Bosco at the front of the car. He peered into the engine, waving the lurking mist accumulating before his eyes. "So, how much do you know about cars?"  
  
"Well, I know I like to drive 'em, but that's about it," replied Bosco, sharing a worried glance with his friend. "But you know about them, right?"  
  
"Surrender the fantasy," Carlos said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I know shit."  
  
Bosco gulped and looked over his shoulder. He didn't want to think it, let alone do it, but they had really been left with no choice. He turned back to Carlos. "We gotta go get help," he said.  
  
Carlos nodded but took no further action. "Uh huh."  
  
Peering back over his shoulder into the grey abyss, Bosco swallowed hard. "You wanna take the lead?" But his only reply was something between a small laugh and scared grunt. Bosco shrugged. "Didn't think so, but I had to ask."  
  
He dropped the hood and let it lock closed, then he locked the rest of the car and met Carlos back at the front. He pushed his friend forward and indicated the path they should take.  
  
Carlos stopped in his tracks, shoved Bosco in front. "Hey, I said no to the taking the lead shit," he said. "You're the cop. So, go serve and protect why don't you."  
  
Bosco nodded. "I guess I forgot," he replied. Then he took a few hesitant steps forward and pointed down what he thought was the road. "We should stick to the road or we might get lost," he continued.  
  
"Right behind you," Carlos said, stepping up close behind his friend.   
  
They walked away from the car, trying to keep tabs on the sounds of their feet shuffling along the gravel. The fog was thick and unrelenting, and they both had to continually wave a hand before them to disperse it's murky curtain. It was only a short while when the car could no longer been seen over their shoulders.  
  
And this left a very ambiguous feeling in the pits of their stomachs.  
  
"Is it just me, or are you getting the feeling Jimmy and Bobby weren't lying?" asked Bosco, looking behind at his friend.  
  
"Oh, it's definitely not just you," Carlos replied, pushing Bosco further ahead. "Now keep walking. I don't wanna be out here any longer than you."  
  
They kept walking, their heads swinging back and forth at regular intervals to squint into the distance. No signs of civilization appeared anywhere- only darkness silhouetted by a thick fog.  
  
They were several minutes into their journey when Bosco stopped- causing Carlos to crash into him like a freight train. He put his hand on his friend's shoulder and took a hesitant step. "Do you hear that?" Bosco asked, his voice a mere whisper.  
  
"Oh. Shit,' replied Carlos, hearing the sloshing noise of mud under Bosco's footfall. "When did that happen?"  
  
Bosco drew in a deep breath. "We must of lost the road somewhere," he replied, stepping ahead into the muddy terrain.  
  
"But where?!" cried Carlos, his fear overtaking his ability to remain calm. "I was listening for this! I didn't hear the change? Did you hear the change?!" He trodded ahead, making loud, angry sloshing noises with his feet. "When did the road turn to mud?!" he cried again.  
  
Bosco let his tongue roll across his bottom lip as he contemplated the sudden change of events. He spun around, trying to find his bearings. But since he'd never had them since the car died, he was unsuccessful now. Finally, he pointed in the opposite direction he was facing and stepped forward. "Let's go this way."  
  
"Why this way?" asked Carlos, pulling up behind him.  
  
"You got a better direction, Mr.FreightyPants?"  
  
Carlos shook his head. "And who you calling FreightyPants?" he asked, slightly offended.  
  
Bosco spread his arm out before him, waving his friend forward. "You wanna take the lead?"  
  
"FrieghtyPants is fine with me," replied Carlos, taking up his position once again behind the off-duty cop.  
  
They continued ahead, this time picking up their pace. It was several minutes later when Bosco heard a loud thud and muffled moan. He stopped dead in his tracks, fearing any movement. "Carlos?" he whispered into the greyness, unable to see his friend.  
  
"Yeah," came back Carlos's soft voice. "I think..."  
  
"Wait," interrupted Bosco, stepping toward the voice. "I can't see you, but I can follow your voice." He turned slowly, relying on his sense of sound to lead him back to his friend. "Say something," he said, having lost the signal.  
  
"Something," replied the sarcastic voice. "But let me tell you..."  
  
Bosco hushed him once he had picked up the signal again. He turned to his right and took several hesitant steps. "Oouff!" he cried, smacking into what seemed like a brick wall. Bosco fell backwards into the mud with a splash- and lay there stunned for several beats.  
  
"But let me tell you about the wall," continued Carlos in a sarcastic, placating voice.  
  
"Yeah, thanks," replied Bosco, pulling himself to his feet. Once standing again, he could see the great stone structure before him. He pressed a hand against it's cold service and gave it a little push.  
  
"What are you doing?" asked Carlos, coming up behind him.  
  
"Checking to see if it's real," replied Bosco.  
  
"Felt real to me," said Carlos, rubbing the sore spot on his forehead. He stepped back and surveyed the scene before him. At first there was nothing but stone and mist, so he stepped further back until he could see the full structure. With a deep escape of breath, Carlos said, "Oh. My god."  
  
Bosco back stepped his way over to Carlos and stopped in sudden fear when he too could see the looming building. He gazed slack-jawed at the house, his eyes wide. "Do you think this is the same house?" he asked, finally able to articulate a sentence.  
  
Carlos crossed his arms over his chest, mimicking a man of assurance. "Big stony house. Lots of fog. Farmer's field. General, overall feeling of ominous things to come," he said sardonically. "Yeah, I'd say this is the place."  
  
*********  
  
(Read on...Please)  
  



	2. Drive, Bosco!... Just Drive! Chapter II

  
  
Drive, Bosco...Just Drive!  
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"Now when the freak did this appear?!" cried Bosco, throwing his arms in the air. He circled the spot in frustration. When he stopped, he braced his hands on his hips and stared at Carlos.   
  
The paramedic glanced at him, then turned and walked away. Bosco watched as he disappeared around the corner of the building, and when he was no longer in site, he quickly ran to catch up. Out front the fog had let up a bit, making visibility somewhat easier. He stopped next to Carlos and followed his gaze.  
  
They were staring at a large, ominous structure created of stone and ivy. It stood three stories tall with a large, baroque chimney sticking up from the roof. One door was placed strategically in the middle of the house's face, a small lamp hovering over it's mantle. There was no doubt in either's mind that this was the house from Bobby and Jimmy's story.  
  
Bosco looked at Carlos, who still hadn't said anything. "What?" he asked, dying to know what was going through his mind.  
  
Carlos shivered, wrapped his arms around himself. "I don't even wanna get into why didn't see this," he finally said. "I think we should just get out of here."  
  
*Creak*  
  
The two men froze as the front door opened, revealing a tall elderly gentleman in an English Morning Suit. His slim figure barely made a slice into the light emanating from the hallway behind him- giving the impression of a man not really there.  
  
Carlos drew in a sharp breath and clenched Bosco's arm between frightened fingers. "Oh, yeah. Let's get out of here," he whimpered, but unable to move his feet.  
  
"You have come," said the voice from the doorway. "We have been expecting you."  
  
Bosco swallowed hard, also unable to move from his statuesque position. "Expecting us?" he choked out. "How?How?How?How...how?" he asked, powerless to stop his mouth from speaking.  
  
Carlos batted him in the back of the head, stopping the verbal diarrhea, and smiled sheepishly at the man in the doorway. "Actually, we really should be going," he said. "But it was nice meeting you."   
  
Quickly, Carlos spun around ready to run for his life in the other direction. But once turned around, he froze in confusion.   
  
The house, the one with the man in the doorway, was situated in his path. Carlos and Bosco both looked over their shoulders to where the house was supposed to be, and noticed an empty lawn delicately enveloped in fog. Together, they turned back to the man in the doorway.   
  
"How'd you do that?" asked Bosco.  
  
"Do what?" replied the man in a deadpan voice. He gestured towards the hall and stepped aside. "Now, if you would follow me," he continued.  
  
Carlos looked at Bosco, his eyebrows raised and questioning. "What do ya think?" he asked.  
  
"I say we go with him," replied Bosco, taking a tentative step forward.   
  
But Carlos stayed where he was. "Why?" he asked skeptically.  
  
Bosco didn't turn to look back at his friend, he merely answered over his shoulder. "Mainly because I'm afraid to turn around," he replied. "Cause if I do, and this house is there instead of here," he paused to point at the uninviting structure. "New York will be short one of it's finest, cause I'll have a freaking heart attack right here."  
  
All too familiar with the mobile house, Carlos agreed with the logic and quickly joined Bosco. They stepped into the front hallway, but kept close together when the man closed the door behind them.  
  
"The parlour is this way, gentlemen," droned the butler, turning to walk down the dimly lit hallway.  
  
Bosco and Carlos followed closely behind, not really knowing what else to do. "Uh, about this expecting us," said Bosco, as they neared the base of a large staircase. "Why?"  
  
The butler stopped, turned, and caught the front of Carlos as he crashed into him. Disgusted, the butler peeled the paramedic from his suit and wiped away the invisible dirt. "You are here to repair the electrical problem, are you not?" he asked, looking from one terrified face to another.  
  
Bosco remembered this part of the story and his heart leapt into his throat. Bobby had mentioned something about this. That, and the fact that he'd never been able to find the fuse box. Bosco didn't know what to make of the situation, so he just nodded and decided to play along.  
  
"Very well then," replied the butler. "I will let the others in the parlor know you are here, and then I'll let you change into some dry clothes before you get to work."  
  
Bosco furrowed his brow. "Change our clothes?"  
  
"You are covered in mud, sir," replied the butler. "The Whittler's would not like you traipsing about their home tracking mud through it. I suggest you change."  
  
Bosco looked down at himself, and indeed he was still covered in mud from his earlier collision with the wall. "Oh, right," he said.  
  
The butler shook his head and sighed before heading for the parlor. This left Bosco and Carlos alone in the foyer at the base of the staircase. Carlos looked over his shoulder, then turned back to his friend with a frown. "What electrical problem?" he asked, noting the lamps on the walls seemed to be working.  
  
Bosco stepped back to survey the hall. The lights were all on. Dim, maybe, but on. "They weren't working in Jimmy and Bobby's story," he said, scratching his head.  
  
"I think we should stop calling it a story now," replied Carlos. "It seems real to me."  
  
Just as Bosco was about to respond, the butler returned and interrupted him. "This way," he said, leading Bosco towards the staircase.  
  
But the officer hesitated. "Hold on a sec," he said, refusing to climb even one step. "We just noticed the lights were on. I thought you said there was an electrical problem?"  
  
The butler drew in a exasperated breath and let it out slowly. "The main floor has been rectified, but the upstairs is still in darkness," he replied, rolling his eyes.  
  
Bosco glanced up the inauspicious staircase, slowly raising his head as his eyes mentally climbed the steps. About halfway up, the rich crimson carpet and dark hardwood floors disappeared into blackness. There was obviously no light coming from the above floor.  
  
"Oh, right," he replied, but still didn't move from his spot.  
  
The butler noticed his hesitation, and apparently had no patience to waste with the youth, so instead of escorting him he pointed up the staircase. "Fourth room on your left, sir," he said. "You will find clothes in there."  
  
Then the butler turned to Carlos. "You come with me, sir," he continued, leading the other youth towards the basement door under the staircase.  
  
Carlos's eyes went wide as he pointed over his shoulder eagerly. "What? Can't I go with him? I don't wanna go to the basement!"   
  
But the butler ignored his pleas and pushed him along.  
  
Bosco, still staring up the disappearing staircase, swallowed hard and began his ascent. With each trepidascious step, Bosco chanted under his breath. "Not scared. Not scared. Not scared. Not scared." He paused when the floor board creaked heavily under foot. "Okay, a little scared."  
  
For the rest of his ascent, Bosco found himself running. When he made it to the landing, he stopped abruptly and tried to make out his surroundings in the dark. With his arms held out before him, he slowly made his way to his left- feeling his way through the chasm.  
  
It didn't take long for him to bump into a wall. He pushed himself off, and began again. This time more cautiously. He felt his away along the wall, his left hand tracing it's smooth surface while he waved his other hand trying to locate obstacles. A moment later Bosco found a door.  
  
He remembered the butler saying 'fourth door on his left', so he continued on.   
  
The hall was not only pitch black, but it was silent. The only noise coming from Bosco's ragged breaths, and the soft footfalls of his feet on the thick carpet. But in the distance, he could sense something was there. He wasn't sure what, but he was sure he didn't want to find out.  
  
He picked up his pace, desperately hoping to find the room soon. But speeding up was not the best idea. For when he collided with the large window at the end of the hall, the impact was that much more painful... Not to mention loud.  
  
The glass reverberated a low hum throughout the hallway as Bosco pulled back. "That's it!" he said, rubbing his forehead. "I'm leaving. This is ridiculous." He reached for the wall he had been following, but this time with his right hand so he could follow it back, but it was no longer there.  
  
Bosco spent several seconds trying to re-locate the wall, but with no success. His heart pounding, he decided to just go for it. He took a deep breath and ran straight into the darkness, hoping to eventually find the staircase again.  
  
But with the way things had been going for him, he should've known not to do that.   
  
Another wall.  
  
Another bruise to the forehead.  
  
Bosco lay sprawled on the ground, whimpering and cursing the day when he felt a hand on his knee. He sat up abruptly to find a young woman in a white chiffon gown holding a candle. She was crouched at his feet, one hand on his knee, and the door to a room open behind her.  
  
"Let me help you up," she said, offering her hand.  
  
Bosco took it hesitantly, and let the woman help him to his feet. When she released her grip, Bosco felt his hand tingle. Not from electricity, but from cold. His fingers felt numb, and he had to shake his hand to get the blood pumping again.  
  
"Thank you," he said. He looked over her shoulder into the room, noting it's illumination. "I see you have electricity in there," he continued, returning his gaze to the woman.  
  
"I must go now," she replied, stepping back into the room.  
  
But just as the door was about to close, Bosco put his foot out to stop it. "No, wait!" he pleaded, but too late. The door closed shut with a force strong enough to knock Bosco's foot back.   
  
He stumbled, then regained his footing. He approached the door again and knocked. There was a beautiful woman on the other side, and the cop wanted one thing out of her... directions to the front door.  
  
He pounded for what seemed like an eternity, then gave up when no answer came. Finally, he shrugged and gripped the doorknob. "Here goes nothing," he said, pushing the door open.  
  
*********  
  
(Read on...Please.)   
  



	3. Drive, Bosco!... Just Drive! Chapter II...

  
Drive, Bosco...Just Drive!  
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The door opened swiftly, no creaks or groans. As if it had opened on it's own, with no need to exert any force. Bosco stepped into the room and felt the temperature drop. And when he breathed out, he could see his breath mistify before his face. Bracing his arms from the cold, he stepped further into the cold chamber- looking for the woman who could give him directions.  
  
The lights were on, and Bosco was very thankful for that. He could see a desk before him- across the room and in front of a large window. He noticed quickly that the gaunt draperies swung loosely, billowing towards the desk. But the window they protected was closed. And the lamp on the desk was shielded by a heavy piece of material, draped over a bare light bulb.  
  
To his right was a grand bookcase shelved with what looked like thousands of books; each dust free and immaculately indexed. On his left was a small table, and on the wall behind that hung a large oil painting. It was done in dark, rich colours and depicted the portrait of a young beautiful woman in a white chiffon gown.  
  
Bosco's eyes grew large as he recognized the woman in the painting. He spun around the room looking for the woman from the hall.   
  
And as he turned about in circles, his foot caught on the rug and he fell to the floor. He rolled over and pushed himself up, but was grabbed from behind before he could get to his feet.   
  
The hand was cold.  
  
Bosco shivered from both it's touch and the fear coursing through his veins. But he still couldn't help but look at the woman.   
  
It was the one from the portrait. And when Bosco let his eyes travel to the painting, he noticed an empty hole- where the woman had once been.   
  
"Have the horses arrived?" asked the woman, scooping up her gown and turning from Bosco.  
  
"Uh...um... what?" he stammered, his eyes darting from the woman to the empty portrait.  
  
"Charles shall be so delighted when I arrive," she said gleefully, stepping up to the painting and examining it's opulent frame. She ran a hand down the carved wood with a loving touch, then turned back to the awe struck Bosco. "Don't you think so?"  
  
"Uh...um...what?"  
  
The woman smiled childishly with a shrug. "Come fetch me when the horses have arrived," she said, then stepped back into the painting.  
  
"Uh...um...what?" Bosco stared at the painting, watching the contours coalesce from a mortal being to that of an image on canvas. His mouth dropped, and his heart beat a strong rhythm against his rib cage.   
  
"Now that's some freaky shit," he murmured, eyes still fixated on the painting. He shook his head, knocking all the stunned pieces back into action. He was still lost on the second floor, and without light in the hallway.  
  
But he did know one thing, and it was the same thing he knew in the hall just moments before running blindly down it- he had to get out of there.  
  
Searching the room frantically with his eyes, Bosco caught sight of some candles on the little desk before the grand portrait. With hesitant steps, he approached the table and quickly grabbed the candles before the woman could climb back out and snag him back to her world.  
  
Once he had the candles, he searched for some matches. He flew about the room, wanting to make his stay as short as possible, and finally found some on the desk before the window. With trembling fingers, he lit a candle, threw the rest on the desk and ran for the door- one hand cupped over the flame to protect it's life.  
  
"Staircase. Staircase. Staircase. Staircase," he chanted, as he ran down the hall. Now that he had some light, his journey had become more agreeable and he could navigate with more ease.  
  
To his right a door appeared and he stopped to investigate. When he shone the light passed the berth he noticed it was a staircase. Bosco remembered Bobby's story and realized this must be the one leading to the basement.   
  
Carlos was in the basement.  
  
Bosco drew in a deep breath and leaned over the staircase. He had no intentions of descending into the bowels of the house, so cupped his hand over his mouth and yelled. "Carlos!"  
  
A strong, cold rush of air blew past him, distinguishing the candle. Bosco didn't take time to analyze his situation any further. He dropped the makeshift light and ran down the hall further, arms flailing over his head in a panicked run.  
  
And when the wall suddenly opened to his right to reveal a long staircase, he turned and bounded down the steps towards the front door. But just as he was about to open the great door, he remembered something. Or more to the point, someone.  
  
Carlos.  
  
Bosco glanced over his shoulder, staring at the door beside the staircase. There was no way he was going to go down there. And the sudden voices coming from the parlor indicated that maybe he didn't have to. One of the voices sounded like his friend's.  
  
He followed the voices down the hall and into the room. At first he could only see the man at the mantle smoking a pipe, and Bosco let out a weak cry as he came to an abrupt stop. His eyes searched the room till he found his friend sitting in a high back chair by the window.  
  
"Carlos," he said between ragged breaths. "Time to go."  
  
Carlos' eyes quickly darted to his friend in the doorway, but he didn't move a muscle. He was the epitome of a human statue.   
  
Bosco stepped further into the room and noticed the other occupants; the butler, an elderly woman, a younger woman and a small child.  
  
They were the same people from Jimmy and Bobby's story, and Bosco was just waiting to hear one of them start spouting Shakespeare. But he really didn't want to stick around long enough to listen. He approached Carlos, ready to grab him and run.  
  
But a shrill voice startled him, causing him to stop and grab his chest.  
  
"Isn't it lovely!" shrieked the female voice. The younger woman ran across the room to join the man at the mantle where she embraced him lovingly.  
  
Bosco looked at Carlos. "What's going on here?" he asked carefully, keeping an eye on the couple.  
  
"I have no idea," replied his friend, still a statue in the chair. "I've been here ever since you went upstairs, and I didn't know then what was going on. And I still don't know now." Carlos paused and let his eyes flick to couple at the mantle. "They were all accusing each other of murder a few minutes ago."  
  
"You've been here the whole time?" asked Bosco, scratching his head.  
  
"Yep," replied Carlos. "There was no way I was gonna go down into the basement. I made the butler bring me here so I could wait for you."  
  
"Smart man," Bosco said, waving his hand and beckoning his friend. "Let's get out of here." But no movement was forthcoming from Carlos. "Let's go!" repeated Bosco, his impatience and fear fighting for priority emotion.  
  
"No problem," replied Carlos. "But first you're gonna have to pry my hands from this chair. I don't think I can do it on my own."  
  
Bosco rushed forward and stepped behind the chair. Grabbing the back with both hands, he heaved the chair forward- knocking Carlos onto the floor. He grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled his friend to his feet.  
  
Together they ran for the door, but were stopped by the butler blocking their exit into the hallway. "I presume you have fixed the electricity?" he asked, his voice monotone and dry.  
  
Bosco raised his eyebrows, almost high enough to reach his hairline. "Uh, no," he replied skeptically. He didn't know what to say. He wasn't sure if the wrong answer would cause a longer stay. "But candles are safer on the environment. I suggest you use those!" he rushed, brushing past the butler, Carlos in a tight grip behind him.  
  
He pulled his friend toward the front door and out into the night. When they were several feet from the main entrance, they finally stopped to catch their breaths. Both were facing away from the house, bent over with their hands braced on their knees as they drew in long, ragged breaths.  
  
"You gonna look back?" asked Carlos, raising his eyes only high enough to see Bosco.  
  
"Nope," replied his friend between breaths. "Not after what Jimmy and Bobby said."  
  
Carlos nodded. "Me either."  
  
"You ready?"  
  
Carlos drew in a long breath and nodded. But as he did, his head turned to his left where he could see the house behind them. Or more like, the empty place where the house once stood. He stood up, and this time, he grabbed Bosco by the shoulder and dragged him further away.  
  
"What?! What?!" cried Bosco, as his body was pulled and hauled over the misty terrain. "Did you look back?!"  
  
Carlos kept running, his head straight forward. "Yep."  
  
"What was there?!"  
  
"What wasn't there is more appropriate!" replied Carlos, still dragging his friend.  
  
A moment later they found the road. The mist cleared around a small sports car as if it had been waiting to lift upon their approach. Carlos and Bosco raced for their respective doors and jumped in. The latter fumbled with his keys while the other quickly locked the doors.  
  
"Please work. Please work," Bosco prayed as he tried to turn the engine over.   
  
The alternator kicked in, and the motor began to thrum. "Was the house really gone?" he asked, throwing the car into drive.  
  
Carlos turned to him, his eyes steady and determined. "Drive, Bosco...Just drive!"  
  
*********  
  
~The End- So, go read the next installment in the series 'Drive, Davis!...Just Drive!'~  
  



End file.
